A Steel Jacketed Antidepressant
by Lancer47
Summary: Dawn Summers goes to Columbia University and her roommate is Meadow Soprano. Faith butts in.


**A Steel-Jacketed Antidepressant to the Back of the Head**

 _Freelancer,_ _AKA Lancer47_

 _The Sopranos_ and _Buffy_ Crossover

 _Disclaimer: This is based on_ The Sopranos, _and_ Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

 _A/N:_

 _I have been working on this one, off and on, for some time, but the recent death of James Gandolfini (RIP) has spurred me to work a little harder._

 _I have freely mixed up scenes from different episodes of the Sopranos without regard to the timing or even which season; this is, after all, an alternate universe._

 _This started out as a story about Dawn Summers and Meadow Soprano, but Faith muscled her way in and took the lead._

 _This story takes places in the same universe as my story_ Faith, Hope, and Charity – _so Faith lives near Sag Harbor in the mansion she inherited from her aunt, which has become known as 'Slayers East', but this story will work as a stand-alone. There are some spoilers for_ Faith, Hope, and Charity _, so if you plan to read it, you should do that first, except the FH &C isn't finished (as of this writing) and hasn't got to the spoiled part. I don't think it's anything that can't be foreseen though._

* * *

 **Prologue**

Faith sauntered along the edge of the roof of a two story building, watching two girls walking along the quiet street below. She could easily follow their conversation:

"So Meadow," said the blonde, "can you score any speed? I need somethin' to get through my advanced calculus class. Fuckin' tensors got me down."

"No, sorry Caitlin, my source dried up long ago, and I've stayed away from that shit since."

"Oh. Well, let's go see if Alphonse is around, maybe he'll get us some more vodka."

"You're on your own, I can't stand that stuff, either."

"Okay..." She pauses for a few moments, then said, "So I met that new girl, the one from England, coming out of Professor Gil's office; she damn near ran me over."

"England?"

"Yeah, Cambridge or Oxford some place."

"So is she she stuck-up bitch? Puttin' on airs? 'Posh' English accent?"

"Naw, she's from California – she just went to school in England. Actually, I'd kinda like to get to know her better. Too bad her first impression of me went so far wrong."

Meadow laughed.

Faith stopped paying attention to the unwitting bait when she spotted her prey – a young vampire sneaking along a hundred feet back. She smiled to herself – if the vamp had seen that smile he would have started running the other way. Faith leaped off the building and landed in front of the evil creature. It didn't take her long to dust him.

* * *

 **Chapter One**

"Hi, you must be my new roommate?"

"Yeah, hi, I'm Dawn Summers."

"Meadow Soprano, is that side okay with you?"

"Sure. Uh, are all these vodka posters yours?"

Meadow laughed, "No, they were my ex-roommate's: Caitlin, a crazy chick. By all means, take them down if you want to."

"Crazy and drunk too, I'd guess."

"You got that right. Plus suicidal."

"Oh no, did she...?"

"She's in rehab now."

"Oh, good." Said Dawn, "I guess that's for the best."

Another girl carrying a ridiculously large load of boxes, trunks and suitcases banged the door open behind Dawn.

"Dawnie! Where do you want all your shit?"

"Anywhere Faith, dump it all on the bed – no not that one – this one!" said Dawn.

"Do you have any more stuff? Can I help carry?" asked Meadow.

"No, no, I think that's the last of it," said Faith.

"Actually, that looks like all of it," said Dawn.

"Yep, look I gotta book, so I'll see you late tonight or tomorrow, then we can talk, 'kay?"

"Sure Faithy, see you later." With Faith gone it suddenly seemed quiet in the room, even though she had only been there for a few seconds.

"So, Meadow," Dawn asked as she started to unpack, "what's your major?"

"Oh, I'm going back and forth between premed and law. I started out studying medicine, but then I volunteered down at the Legal Aid Center and now I'm wavering 'cuz it's really a lot more interesting than I expected. Still, I've got plenty of time to make a decision. What about you?"

"Well, my major interest is Mythology, Ancient Languages, and Linguistics, especially ancient linguistics. That's what I studied at Oxford. But I'm spending a year here at Columbia in the Germanic Language Department to broaden my exposure and then it'll be back to Oxford to get my masters. Oh yeah, and a minor in math, plus I found a professor here who knows more about mythology in the Americas than just about anyone I ever heard of – and that's saying something 'cuz I know some world class scholars in mythological studies. It's not a major here, but I can take classes and the subject is fascinating to me and it dovetails nicely with my ancient languages major at Oxford."

"Holy shit! Oxford! Should I curtsy and call you 'your highness'? How are going to fit all that in? Do you study like twenty hours out of twenty-four?"

Dawn grinned, "Curtsies and honorifics are always welcome, but are neither required nor enforced. Languages comes easy to me. Math is just a little bit harder. It's the mythology that gives me the most trouble. I don't study as much as I should, much like most students I suppose."

"Oh," replied Meadow faintly, "good. So, uh, did you graduate?"

"Yeah, I've got my BFA in ancient language."

"Wow, so how come you're staying in the dorm?"

"Cuz' New York apartments are fuckin' expensive. And anyway, on the weekends I can stay with Faith if I want to get out of town. She's got a place out on Long Island, near Sag Harbor, overlooking the ocean."

"Wow, that's a really expensive area."

"Yeah, she's an heiress."

"How nice for her. You want to get some lunch? I'll show you where the cafeteria is."

"Sure. How's the food?"

"Eh, not _too_ bad."

"Well that sounds like a ringing endorsement."

* * *

The next morning Meadow was dreaming of swans on a river in Oxford – Dawn had enthusiastically described the environs around her place in England the previous evening – until a stranger barged in and woke her. She yanked her blanket up over her head, then pulled it far enough down to peer over the top, and blinked her eyes at the tough looking leather clad biker chick who had invaded her dorm room.

"So who are you? Oh, wait, you're the girl who helped Dawn move in last night."

"Yeah, I'm Faith, Dawn's bodyguard, at least for now."

"Bodyguard?" Meadow squeaked out, "why does Dawn need a bodyguard?"

" 'Cuz _fvccant_ jerkoffskeep trying to kidnap me," said Dawn, walking in from the hall wrapped in a big towel, back from the showers.

Meadow's eyebrows shot upward as she processed that surprising info. "Uh, what? And why?"

"Beats me. Mostly because of my sister, I suppose. And _fvccant_ is Latin for 'fucking'. I think it sounds more educated that way."

"Well, maybe if anyone understood you."

"Hey, I can't help it if people don't understand Latin; just because it's a dead language is no reason not to speak it."

Meadow said, "So, is your sister famous or something?"

"Famous in certain circles, definitely an or _something_ thing," said Dawn.

Meadow was mystified by that answer and asked, "Can you firm that up a little?"

"Well, she helps to run a company called Council Antiquities, Ltd., in England. I work for them too, when I'm not studying – we deal in ancient artifacts. It's a pretty old company, very famous in certain circles. Anyway, my sister and I are reasonably well-off now, and Council Antiquities is _really_ loaded; so people keep trying to kidnap me for money and statues and stuff."

Meadow wasn't convinced she was getting the whole story, but figured it was close enough.

"So Meadow," asked Faith, "what's your dad do?"

"He's in Waste Management Consulting over in New Jersey."

"Does that mean he's a garbageman?"

Meadow laughed, "He does own a trash hauling company, among others."

Dawn frowned in thought and said, "What a minute, is your dad Anthony Soprano?"

"Yes."

"Ah ha! The Boss of Northern New Jersey organized crime! The Mafia!"

Meadow glared at Dawn. "There's no such thing as the Mafia! Although my dad has been accused of taking certain shortcuts here and there, he's never been convicted of anything..." She trailed off unconvincingly.

Faith and Dawn exchanged glances. "Well," said Faith, "It's not like you're connected with the family business, right?"

"No, no, dad doesn't bring his work home. He likes to pretend I don't know what he does for a living."

"Hey, I saw a coffee bar across the street, anyone for a cappuccino? My treat," said Faith.

"Sure."

A few minutes later all three were standing in line in a dark, almost dreary little coffeehouse waiting to order. A large man came by and jostled Faith.

"Hey man, watch it!" she exclaimed.

The stranger turned and looked at Meadow, ignoring Faith and Dawn completely. "Hey, ain'tcha Tony Soprano's daughter?"

Meadow cautiously agreed, "Uh, yeah."

"Yeah, I t'ought so. You gotta speck of cream on your face, here let me get it." He leaned forward and started to rub his finger against Meadow face. "Little cream looks good on your face, huh?"

Meadow leaned back and said sharply, "What do you want?"

"Nuttin' nuttin', I jest wanted you to give a message to yer old man. Tell 'im 'Coco' Scartilone has somethin' for 'im. Here, ya got sumthin' on yer shirt."

He reached out and tried to touch a spot on Meadow's shirt, just at her chest, but Meadow stepped back smartly. Faith leaned forward, grabbed the man's wrist, and twisted a little. He was forced to back up. He yelled at Faith, "Hey cunt, the fucks ya problem, huh? Get the fuck outta my face before I twist yer fuckin' arm clean the fuck..."

Faith twisted his arms a little more until he flipped over and landed face down on the floor. Faith put her foot on his neck and pulled his arms up until he yelled. Faith leaned down and said quietly into his ear, "This is a message from Tony, if I ever see you botherin' Meadow again, I'll rip _your_ fuckin' arms clean off and watch while you slowly bleed to death." She pulled a little on his arms again and he groaned loudly. " _Capi_ _s_ _ce_?"

"YES YES I BELIEVE YOU! FUCK! LET GO A ME YA FUCKIN' CUNT!

Faith let go and straightened up. She looked at the other patrons and staff who all looked worried and nervous. Faith said loudly, "Here, let me help you up, dude." Turning to the onlookers, she said, "Poor guy had a little snoot already and tripped. Don't worry, we'll take care of it."

By now he had regained his feet and beat a hasty retreat.

Meadow said, "You weren't kidding when you said you were a bodyguard. That was amazing! But what did you mean by a message from 'Tony'? You don't work for my dad, do you?"

"Nah, I just figured I'd be a little more threatening if I used your old man's name, and since he was buggin' you, it kinda fit."

"Yeah," Meadow said thoughtfully, "I guess. But, you may have made yourself a target. I suppose I'll have to tell dad about this, just to make sure it doesn't happen again."

"Yeah," said Faith, "if that guy should happen to disappear forever, I don't suppose anyone would care too much."

"I don't think my dad has ever done anything like that!"

Faith looked at her, "How much do you know about your old man's work?"

"Like I said, not that much, just what I see on the web, which is likely inaccurate, but..."

"Well, let's just say, if someone really pissed off Tony Soprano, they could end up as a part of a foundation somewhere."

"You've got my father mixed up with someone else!"

Faith smiled at her, "You're wearing rose-colored contacts, honey. But okay, you'll not hear another peep from me."

"Nor me," agreed Dawn.

* * *

"Hi dad!"

"Meadow, how's my lil sweetheart?" Tony hugged Meadow briefly, then sat down with her at the kitchen bar, next to two other girls he didn't know.

"I'm good. I gotta new roommate."

"That other girl finally went _come un pazza_? She gone now?"

"Yeah, she's in therapy. This is my new roommate, Dawn Summers, and her friend Faith. Faith is Dawn's bodyguard!"

Tony raised his eyebrows halfway up his forehead. "Yeah? Girl bodyguard, huh?"

Dawn said, "Yeah, my sister worries, I've been kidnapped in the past, so, wherever I go, someone follows."

"A _girl_ bodyguard," Tony repeated, having trouble with the concept. "Just the one? Maybe you're not in all that much danger after all, eh?"

"Wait a minute Dad, yesterday the three of us went across the street from the dorm to that little Italian coffee shop and while we were waiting in line a guy came up to me, he said his name was Coco Scartilone, and he had message for you."

Tony frowned deeply as he replied, "Coco had a message for me? Why'd he wanna talk to you? He can gi' me any message he wants, personal."

"Yeah, that's what he said, a message. Then he got kinda grabby with me, and then Faith decided she didn't like his attitude. So she grabbed him and..."

Tony chuckled, turned towards Faith and said, "You grabbed hold of Coco Scartilone? How'd that work out?"

"She flipped him over," said Meadow, "and twisted him till he landed face down on floor. She had his arms up and her foot on the back of his neck – it happened so fast I didn't even understand how Faith did it!"

"So," Tony mused, "you take steroids or sumpin'?"

"Nah," said Faith, "I don't need nuthin' like that, I'm stronger than I look."

"Umm, so what happened next?"

"Oh, Faith yanked on his arms until he screamed. Then she bent down and said this was a message from you."

"Yeah? So Faith, why'd you use my name?"

"I just figured this Coco guy would believe it, and I didn't think you'd mind since he was bothering Meadow at the time."

"Hmm," said Tony, "okay _this_ time, but don't make a habit of it."

"I wouldn't dream of it," said Faith. "Your business and my business don't intersect, or at least they'd better not."

"Yeah? What business you in?"

"I deal in antiques."

"Oh," Tony said, looking a little confused. "You're right, nuttin' to do wit' waste management, not unless you toss any old statues inna dumpster or somethin'." He turned back to Meadow and said, "So...?"

Meadow continued, "So anyway, Mr. Scartilone capitulated, Faith helped him up, diffused the situation with the other customers by blaming it on a little too much to drink, and we all sat down like we were at the Russian Tea Room."

"Hmmm!" said Tony, "thanks for looking after my lil' girl, ya know?"

"Hey, no prob. But I'll not always be there, you know."

"Yeah I know. Don't worry, I'll take care of Coco."

Faith glanced at Meadow and winked.

"Your family, they from Sicily?" asked Tony, "You got that look, you could be Italian."

"Naw, Boston. My family's originally from Ireland."

"Oh. Well, I won't hold that against ya."

"That's mighty generous of you, Tony."

"Hey, I'm a modern man!"

* * *

 **Chapter Two**

Faith walked down the hall of the Medical Center to the dentist's office. She ducked in the waiting room and spotted Dawn. "Hey Dawnie, you ready?"

"Yah ret ro ow."(*1)

Faith laughed. "I guess the Novocain's still working."

"Es, es ii ess,"(*2) she said as she got up, holding a tissue on the right side of her mouth. "Ah ucking dring arr oer!"(*3)

"I have no idea what you just said. Let's go."

They headed down the stairs at the end of the hall. Suddenly, Faith turned to Dawn and whispered urgently, "Wait here!" Faith loosened up and appeared to flow down the stairs with a smooth and deceptively fast motion. She leaped the last set of steps and grabbed a man who was in the middle of raping a woman who was crying and cursing and struggling ineffectively.

Faith grabbed him by the neck and casually tossed him into the wall, where he hit head first with a solid 'thunk', then slid unconscious to the floor. She turned to the victim and asked, "Are you all right?"

The woman gathered her ripped clothes together as best she could and shuddered. "B-b-b-better n-n-now. Th-th-thanks." She was bruised and bleeding from several fresh wounds. Dawn appeared around the corner up the last landing. When she saw what was happening she rushed down to try to comfort the woman.

"Arhe ou owri?" (*4)

The victim started and stared fearfully at Dawn. Faith chuckled softly. "I just picked her up from the dentist upstairs."

"Oh, oh. Sorry, you must be in pain."

"Eee? Oh oh, aught ah bow ou? Etter all ine un un, aith!"(*5) Dawn dabbed her handkerchief at her mouth again to soak up her drool.

Faith said, "Let me borrow your phone." She picked it up where it had spilled out on the floor with all her other purse contents and punched 9-1-1.

" _Emergency services, please state the nature of your problem."_

"Hi, yeah, I just interrupted a rape in progress. We need an ambulance."

" _Just a moment … Ambulance is on the way to your location, and the police will be there shortly."_

"Oh yeah, the rapist probably needs help too, I knocked him off the victim and he hit his head against the wall."

" _You mean the perpetrator is still there?"_

"Yeah, but he's unconscious."

" _According to your phone readout you're in the parking garage at the City Medical Center, is that correct? And what floor are you on?"_

"Yes, fourth floor, section 'C', in the west stairwell."

" _Yes ma'am, please stay on the line while I relay this to the responders."_

Faith looked at the victim and said, "I'm on hold now. How're you doin', really?"

"If you hadn't come down those stairs, I might be dead by now."

"Yeah, that's possible. By the way, my name's Faith, Faith Lehane. And this is Dawn Summers."

"Dr. Jennifer Melfi. I'm a psychiatrist."

"Hey, that's good. You can start treating yourself."

"That never works; almost all therapists see other psychiatrists for their own therapy."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yes, it's the first thing we're taught – it's needed after listening to other people talking about their problems all day."

"Ha, yeah, I can see that."

Dr. Melfi tried to stand up. "Look, I need to get out of here."

"Can you wait just a minute? I can hear the sirens, cops'll be here soon."

"Umm, all right I guess, but let's open the door, get some air in here."

"Sure."

Faith stared pensively at the rapist. After a moment she said, "You wanna get some kicks in before the cops show? You know, smash a couple of random external organs?"

Melfi was tempted. She stared. "He looks a little like a victim now, doesn't he?"

"He's fucked over, that's a definite. And he's gonna do time, what with the both of us testifying against him. I don't think we need to change his status to victim though."

"You're right. I'd like to kill him. But I won't."

"I know a few ways to make it look accidental."

"No, no," replied the doctor, "I'll trust the justice system to work."

"In New Jersey?" Faith asked skeptically.

"Yes, even in New Jersey."

* * *

*(1) "Yeah, let's go now."

*(2) "Yes it is."

*(3) "I'm fucking drooling all over!"

*(4) "Are you all right?"

*(5) "Me? Oh no, what about you? Better dial nine-one-one Faith."

* * *

A few weeks later, Meadow and Dawn were in their room, studying quietly. Suddenly, the door was flung open and Faith stalked in, radiating anger from every surface.

"Fuck!" she said, did you hear about that asshole that attacked Dr. Melfi?"

"No, what about him?" asked Dawn.

"The fuckin' cops let him go! I can't believe it, some bullshit about losing the chain of evidence! I called up that stupid detective and told him I would still be able to testify, but he said the ADA wouldn't prosecute without physical evidence, even with a witness _and_ the victim's testimony! What bullshit!"

"Have you talked to Dr. Melfi? What's her reaction?"

"Yeah, she called me. She was really pissed off, and very, very upset."

"What the hell, Faith? You caught the guy, not just red-handed, but red-dicked. I can't believe they won't prosecute it!"

"And ya know what's worse? The guy, the perp, he works at a deli around the corner from the doctor's office!"

"You're shitting me!"

"Nope."

Meadow asked, "What's this now? What happened?"

"Oh," said Dawn, "two weeks ago I was at the dentist at the Medical Center when Faith came to pick me up. On our way downstairs we interrupted an assault and rape in progress. We had the guy dead to rights, but, as you heard, apparently that's not good enough for New Jersey justice."

"Shit! That sucks!" said Meadow.

"Yeah," agreed Faith, "I was wish I'd hit him harder now. And poor Dr. Melfi's been having nightmares. I hope she gets over it, I kinda like her. In fact, I was thinking of going to see her, professionally I mean. Lord knows _I've_ got issues."

"I thought you were doin' alright," said Dawn.

"Yeah, mostly. I mean, I'm not worried that I'm gonna flip out and do somethin' stupid, but you know, just to talk. It's kinda girly, I know, but, well, it might do me some good. And this way I can follow up on Dr. Melfi."

"Yeah, okay, that sounds cool. Except you can't quite tell her _everything_ , you know?" said Dawn.

"Well, yeah."

"What?" asked Meadow.

"Oh, nothin' really, just some stuff we don't want to publicize, that's all," said Faith.

"Huh, well, okay." Meadow could tell when she was being shut out, so she went back to her law book.

* * *

Faith sat quietly in Dr. Melfi's waiting room, glancing back and forth between a statue of a nude and a painting of a New England barn on the wall opposite her. After a few minutes, the doctor opened the door.

"Ms. Lehane, would you like to come in now?"

"Sure, let's get this show on the road." She took another glance at the painting of the tree and barn on her way in. "Where should I sit?"

"Anywhere you like."

Faith nodded knowingly and chose a comfortable looking chair facing Dr. Melfi across a glass table. "So that painting out there, that's got coded information in it, right? Depending on what I see in it, you get a heads-up on what demons are after me, right?"

Melfi's mouth twitched slightly. She said, "The painting is of a tree and a barn in the fall, there's nothing hidden in it." She had the irritated air of someone repeating herself.

"Yeah there is, you can't fool me. I can tell there's something hiding behind the tree trunk, the shadow of the tree is off a little, that's how I can tell. And the shadow inside the barn door is too solid, there's something nasty hiding in there, too."

"And just what do you think is in the shadows?"

"HA! I knew it!"

"Faith, if you see something in the painting, it's all you. I didn't choose it out of the 'deceitful therapists catalog'. I bought it at small gallery in upstate New York simply because I liked the painting and I thought it would go well in the waiting room."

"Hmmph. Okay, well, the shadow's still off, there's somethin' hidin' in that pi'ture."

"So Faith," said Dr. Melfi, "this may not be the best idea since we have a relationship outside the office."

"Oh that doesn't bother me, it was just the one time, and it may help because you know what I am capable of. If I describe what I can do to people who've never seen me in action, they don't really believe me. In fact, _you_ haven't seen me operate at my highest and most violent level."

"Really? Do you often get violent?"

"It's under control, these days I only get violent in appropriate situations. But I did have a, shall we say, _troubled_ youth. In the interests of full disclosure, I did time in a California prison for murder."

Dr. Melfi looked at Faith intently.

"But I did turn myself in, and eventually the Governator pardoned me for 'service above the call of duty'."

"That sounds interesting, why don't we start there?

"Well, we can't because I can't talk about the most interesting aspects of that time. It's classified, you see."

"Classified? By whom? And for what?" Dr. Melfi failed to completely hide her disbelief.

"The Federal Government. But I'm gonna try and get permission to talk to you about it. You'd have to sign some non-disclosure agreements, then I could talk more freely."

"You know I can't talk about my patients anyway, right? Patent/client confidentiality is written into law, and I respect it absolutely. Unless you tell me about something criminal that you plan to do, or something you did that may be ongoing, only then would I be required to report it to the authorities."

"Yeah, see, that's part of the problem. Some of what I do may appear kinda criminal, but if a couple of agents from Homeland Security ask you to sign NDAs, then it would already be reported, and you'd be off the hook. Not only that, but some of what I do you simply wouldn't believe – unless a couple of Federal Agents vouched for me."

"That sounds fine, I wouldn't want you to break a confidence without permission. In the meantime, what can I do for you now? What _can_ you talk about, without running afoul of the government?"

"Umm, well, when I was thirteen I overheard my mom planning to rent me out to her pimp slash dealer slash boyfriend, so I ran away." Faith looked at Melfi to see what her reaction would be.

Dr. Melfi watched her without any visible reaction. She said, "Go on."

"For the next eighteen months I lived on the streets of Boston, I mostly favored parks. I managed to avoid getting hooked on drugs; even then I was pretty good at taking care of myself. I did have a couple of encounters where if I didn't have sex with a couple of guys I would have been raped..."

"Faith, if they didn't take _no_ for an answer, then you _were_ raped."

"Yeah, I suppose. At the time it just seemed like something I had to do to survive, if I hadn't agreed to have a little fun I might have been hurt bad – it was like a partial-win-win situation."

Melfi said, "You don't really believe that, do you?"

"Well, no, not anymore. But remember, I was just a kid, and back then I din't have any choice. I learned though; I learned not to trust men, and I learned how to keep clear of those sorts of situations."

The doctor looked at Faith. She said, "Do you want to talk about it? Have you ever talked about it, to anyone, at all?"

"I think I just did talk about it, at least about as much as I want to."

"Are you sure? This is what I am here for, I'm not going to mention this to anyone else."

"Yeah, I'm sure. Except those guys, eventually, got what was comin' to 'em."

"What happened?"

"Well, I didn't do nothin' to 'em, if that's what yer thinkin', although I sure wanted to go back and beat the shit out of 'em, at the very least. But those guys, you know they were homeless kids, right, like me? So they naturally fell in with a bad crowd, and I mean _really_ bad, and those guys, well, they were used, see?"

"Um, perhaps you can be more specific," said Dr. Melfi.

"Well they took up with this gang, see, it was a gang that used kids to break into places, and gave 'em guns an' stuff – and eventually they ended up dead. Not unexpected, actually."

"I see. Do you know what happened?"

"Not precisely. I can guess, but I never knew the details. It's not like I grieved for 'em or anything anyways."

"So how did you get away from all that, how did _you_ survive?"

"Eventually a woman from an English organization, they specialize in taking in girls from bad homes, or no homes, anyway I ended up with a guardian for a time.

"Looking back, I now realize that I could have gone to my aunt, she had a place out on Long Island and would have welcomed me. But I just didn't think of it, I'm not entirely certain why, it wasn't until recently that I discovered for sure that she would have welcomed me. In fact, when she learned I was a runaway, she actively looked for me. But I din't know any of that back then."

"So have you been to see your aunt recently?"

"Well, not long ago she died, and I inherited a surprising amount of property from her."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I mean, I'm sorry she died, not that sorry that you inherited."

"Yeah, having a paid-for house and more money than I need to live on is taking some getting used to. But between you and me, it's a lot better than _not_ having enough to live on and sleeping in parks."

Dr. Melfi said, "Why don't you tell me about your mother?"

"Well, there's not that much to say. She was hooked on drugs. She spent half her day trying to fight her addiction, and the rest of the day giving in to her addiction. In between she tried to get money – either from men or various welfare programs. That didn't leave very much time for loving mother/daughter relations."

"But there must have been some good times, since you're not cursing her or otherwise telling me how nasty she was."

"Yeah, a few times. I remember picnics by a lake a handful of times when I was little. That was before the addiction got such a stranglehold on her. Back then she even cooked breakfast and dinner for me. She held down a job, even. Not much of a job, she was a cashier at some dive, a strip club or something."

Melfi raised her eyebrows, but said nothing.

"Well, maybe she was a stripper, I don't know, she could have been either one. She worked nights so I suppose... And the men she brought home seemed to think she was a good looking babe. You understand, she tried to hide that stuff from me, but I was smart enough to figure out what was going on."

"So she had at least _some_ sense of responsibility?"

"Oh sure, at least before the drugs took over completely. Even then she used; at first she had enough will power to do it just a little, just enough to take the edge off, I guess. At least that's what the budding crackheads at the park told me – they called it 'chipping'. They also pointed out that chippers mostly turn into crackheads sooner or later. Usually sooner."

"And you Faith, you never tried drugs or alcohol?"

"Drugs, never! I like a beer, occasionally. I don't get drunk, though."

"Your mother taught you that?"

"Well, she kinda half-heartedly tried – mind you, she wouldn't have wanted to share her stash with me or anyone else, I know that's why she told me not touch the stuff. Really, I learned everything I needed to know about pills, coke, crack, and H from watching her. Just the thought of that shit makes wanna vomit."

"So you never use drugs or drink to excess?"

"Well, that's not entirely accurate. I have gotten drunk out of my fucking head here and there, but not often. I prefer not to because when I get drunk I turn into a huge asshole, and I don't like it when I get that way, 'cuz then I start losin' what few friends I got."

Dr. Melfi wrote another note.

* * *

Faith felt wrung out after her session with Dr. Melfi. She sat on her Harley, lost in thought. After a few minutes she put on her helmet and drove away at barely above the speed limit.

* * *

"Hi mom, hi dad, hi little brother," said Meadow.

"Hey, how's my _principessa_?" said Tony.

"Fine. Hey, I brought some laundry, you don't mind, do ya mom?"

"Not at all, you know where the washing machine is."

"Uh, yeah, I guess."

"So you do ya know if you're going for law or medicine?" asked Carmela.

Tony said, "Wait, what? I thought ya wanted to be a doc! We don't need no fu…, I mean no lawyer inna family! Not this family, anyways. You can always buy lawyers but docs, well, docs is important."

"Daaaaad! Lawyers are important too. You should see all those people down at legal aid, it would break your heart."

Tony thought to himself, _not my heart, half of 'em are prolly there cuz of people like me_ , but he wisely didn't voice his thoughts.

"And anyway, Faith – you remember Faith and Dawn? – she saved a woman from rape and maybe murder. I want ta help people like that."

"Yeah? Where was that. Was it around your dorm?" said Tony.

Carmela added, "That dorm, I don't thinks it's too safe. You gotta be careful – maybe you should move back home and commute to class."

"No, no, it was at the Medical Center. She was picking up Dawn – you remember Dawn, my roommate? – from the dentist when they came across a woman in the stairwell being attacked. Faith stopped it."

"Who was the vic? Anyone you know?"

"Oh, I can't remember her name, she was a psychiatrist, I think."

Tony frowned thoughtfully.

Meadow continued, "Faith was really mad when the state of New Jersey refused to prosecute. I don't blame her, either, it should have been an open and shut case, but apparently some jerk mishandled the evidence and they couldn't be bothered to collect more, even with two witnesses and the victim the ADA didn't want to prosecute."

* * *

The next session with Dr. Melfi, Tony Soprano sat and looked at Dr. Melfi with concern. "So this car accident, that was two months ago, right? They catch the other guy?"

"Yes, but they had to let him go, the evidence wasn't tight enough, or something."

"I see."

"What do see, Tony?"

"Oh, just New Jersey justice. I mean, that guy was drunk, right? According to you. You me to look into it?"

"NO! I mean, no, you don't need to. I've got it."

"Okay." Tony made a mental note to get Sil to find the reports on Dr. Melfi. He really didn't think she'd been in a car accident and if it was rape, and the fucker was walking around outside of prison, then he would damn well supply his own justice. Nobody fucked with Tony Soprano's people, at least not without his permission.

* * *

 **Chapter Three**

Faith sat in Dr. Melfi's waiting room, reading a three-year old _Time_ magazine. She looked up when the door to the hall swung open. "Hey, hi there Tony, what brings you here?"

Tony Soprano looked at Faith, hiding his extreme anger at finding someone else in the waiting room.

"Oh wait," said Faith, "you're here to see Dr. Melfi? Well, obviously, me too." She paused a minute – both of them controlling their own feelings and irritation at being outed about seeing a psych.

Tony said, "So, there some problem with the schedule? Why are you here now?"

Faith shrugged. "I thought I was supposed to be here now, you?"

Just then the door to Melfi's office opened and she sees them both. "Oh no, this wasn't supposed to happen. Ms. Lehane, I think you're early."

"So? I'll just go grab an early lunch. See ya later Tony."

As Faith disappeared out the door, Dr. Melfi said, "You know her?"

Tony said darkly, "Yeah. This was a fuckup, Doc, big time. You know nobodies sposed ta know I see you, and that goes triple for people who know me."

"I'm so sorry, I don't know how it happened. But really, I don't think you need to worry about Ms. Lehane, she's even better than you are at keeping secrets."

"Yeah? How'dya know that? She tell you her secrets?"

"No, she won't tell me anything she considers really secret; but even if she did I can't talk about another patient, you _know_ that."

Tony frowned heavily, but he finally followed her into the office.

* * *

"Silvio, did you find that car accident report on Dr. Melfi?"

"Yeah Tone, only it wasn't no car accident, she was beat up and raped by this fuckin' kid over from the deli by the Medical Center."

"Shit. I was afraid of that."

"Whatcha gonna do? We ain't cops."

"Yeah, I know. But I like Melfi, bad enough she was attacked by this asshole, but to have him get off… He ain't the kid of a made man, is he? Or could he be inna crew?"

"No fuckin' way, he's the son of a cop. Some fuckin' desk sergeant over at the Trenton precinct."

"That's why the little fuck got off!"

"Ya want me to do somethin' bout it?"

"Yeah, you know what to do. And nothing public, got it?"

"Yeah Tone, don't worry about it. Any hurry?"

"Nah, take it easy, do it right, no drama, nothin' to be seen, no evidence at all." Tony mused for a moment, then added, "Come ta think of it, maybe an accident could be organized. But'd hafta be carefully done, bein' the son of a cop they'll take extra care to investigate."

"Got it."

* * *

Silvio watched the kid from time to time – never too close. He got the rhythm of his life, his schedule. So finally, a couple of weeks later, the kid took his dirt bike out for a ride. He drove to a deserted beach on Raritan Bay, planning to sneak into a state park that wasn't used much, and for good reason, there wasn't much there. It seems some New Jersey councilman did himself a favor by having the State buy a plot of contaminated land to turn it into a park, instead of having to pay for getting it cleaned up. But even in New Jersey this little plot was considered too dangerous for children, so the land just sat there. The local teens liked to use the area for off-roading, but not too often since the park had a pungent stench.

Silvio waited behind a group of stunted trees, and when the kid drove by, Silvio shoved a length of two by four into the dirt bike's front wheel. He went down hard, and Silvio made sure he was dead by whacking the back of his head with a rock. He dragged both the bike and the corpse to an old well that was full of water and an acidic chemical waste. He arranged the bike so it looked like it had sideswiped the wellhead and slid into the 2x4, bouncing the body into the well, head first. Looking down the well he could only see the guy's legs sticking out. Good enough.

He stood back and studied the scene, then carefully brushed out his footprints as backed away.

He hiked back to his Cadillac, wiped his hands on a napkin, then headed back to town, stopping only for a couple of Italian hot dogs from a roadside diner he liked.

* * *

Tony, sitting at his desk at the back of the Bada Bing, finished his sausage and pepper sandwich, crumpled up the paper and tossed it across the room towards the trash can. He missed, the paper lay on the floor, ignored. Tony stood up, looked across the room and said, "Hey, Silvio, come with me."

Silvio and Tony stepped outside and strolled up the road, cars whizzing by just ten feet away.

Sil said, "No one can hear us out here. 'Sup Tone'."

"That girl, Faith Lehane, you met her one time at the house."

"Yeah?"

"Take care of her."

"Put her near Adriana?"

"That'll work."

They both contemplated the traffic as they continued their walk.

"What'd she do, Tone?"

"Don't worry about it, she found somethin' about our business I don't want spread about. So..."

"Don't worry Tony, it's done."

* * *

Faith bounded up the stairs of the subway station on Amsterdam Avenue, headed towards the Columbia Library to pass a little time while waiting for Dawn to finish classes for the day. She thought she'd look up Steinbeck while she was there, maybe finish what she started when she was in prison. But her phone rang, she didn't recognize the number.

" 'Lo?"

"Hi, this is Silvio Dante, you remember, we met at Tony Soprano's house last week."

"Yeah, sure, what can I do for you Silvio?"

"Tony wants to invite you, along with his daughter and her roommate, up to his place in the woods this weekend, but he though you'd want to check it out first. And I need to stock it up with food, so we thought you'd like to come with."

"Yeah? How far, how long?"

"Oh, forty minutes up, walk around a bit, unload the car, I'll have ya back, I dunno, two hours, three tops."

"Okay, were are ya?"

"I'm in Manhattan, if you're near Columbia U, I could pick ya up in a few minutes."

"Sure."

After a short discussion about where to meet, Faith walked around the corner, and there he was, leaning against his Caddy. "Hey Sil, I'm ready for a road trip, let's go."

"Hop in."

They drove across the George Washington Bridge to New Jersey, and headed north on Route 17. They talked a little about the cabin, and the weekend, but after a few questions about Meadow, they really didn't have much to say to each other. They drove along in silence until Silvio took an exit that said 'Ramopo', drove along an empty highway and finally turned off onto a dirt road headed into the woods.

Silvio said, "The cabins just up this way a bit."

"Sure," Faith answered.

He stopped the car a mile in. Faith got out, Silvio got out, quietly pulling his gun from the pocket of his jacket and walked around back of the car. He looked up, intending to surprise Faith with his weapon, but – she wasn't there. He stared uncomprehendingly, turned around and saw her out of the corner of his eye. He started to swing his gun around, but the edge of her hand struck his wrist with savage force. He swung his left hand to punch her in the stomach, but her hands flashed out and trapped his arm, both arms. She twisted and flung him aside, and somehow his pistol ended up in her hands.

He looked up at her from the ground; for the first time in his life he felt a little of what it might be like to be a victim instead of the criminal in charge.

"Hey Silvio, stand up. Let's go for a walk in the woods."

He stood up, a little shaky, and asked, "Where to honey?"

"I ain't yer honey, Sil. As for where, well, why don't just I follow you?"

They walked for a minute. Faith pointed to the right, "Is that where you planned to take me? That freshly dug grave?"

Silvio sighed, "Yeah." What else could he say?

"You got some class, Sil, you weren't even planning on makin' me dig my own grave."

Silvio couldn't think of a retort, he was too busy trying to keep from pissing his pants.

"So Sil, whyn'tcha lie down in the hole, let's see how ya fit?"

* * *

Faith drove Silvio's Cadillac back to Columbia U, parked it on the street, locked it and went to meet Dawn and Meadow at the coffee shop.

"Hey guys," she greeted them, "let me get a latte, then we can go."

The three sat, drinking their various coffee concoctions. Dawn asked, "Did you find that Steinbeck book you were looking for?"

"No, I got distracted and had to detour. But I'll be on it tomorrow."

Meadow said, "If we're gonna get to my house in time for dinner, we'd better get going."

* * *

Tony Soprano sat at his own dining table, watching Faith Lehane but trying not to stare, glancing back and forth from her, to the clock, to the phone, to the front, and back. He ate his baked ziti mechanically – it tasted like ashes in his mouth. He wanted to backhand Faith, sitting there calmly extolling the virtues of Carmella's cooking, eating more than Tony could eat, food that he had paid for (and wasn't that the shit), telling stories about her time in Sunnydale, California. But he couldn't do anything, couldn't say anything, not with Meadow and Carmella sitting there. He was burning with curiosity – where was Silvio? Did Faith meet up with Silvio? What happened? How come Silvio hadn't called?

After finishing his zabaglione, he went down to the basement to call Sil on his thowaway. He was startled to find that Faith had followed him down.

She tossed Silvio's key ring to him, he automatically caught them. "Hey Tony, I thought I'd better return Silvio's car keys."

Tony frowned at the keys in his hand, but said nothing. He stared at Faith, trying to frighten her with killer eyes. He couldn't understand why his stare had no effect on the girl.

"So here's the thing, Tone," said Faith, "the only thing worse for you than to _try_ to have me killed, would be to _succeed_ in having me killed. Because the organization I work for would crush you like a bug, they'd take down you and your crew and see you and your buddies in prison, or worse, for the rest of your lives. It wouldn't be no tennis club prison, neither."

"Yeah? The FBI's been tryin' to put me away for years, and the boss of the five families of New York – been trying for months to have me killed and now he's pushing up daises insteada me; so tell me, how's your fuckin' antiques dealers gonna do any better than them?"

"Because we have resources that would give you nightmares if you knew about them. Trust me, if we set our sights on you, you wouldn't stand a chance – you'd be like a mouse stuck on a racetrack in front of a dozen race horses – and, like you, we don't have to follow the law. Anyway, I've told them of the situation in London, and if you try anything now, I guaran-fucking-tee you'll fucking regret it."

Tony glared at her. "I don't take to being threatened, girl."

"I ain't threatening you this time around, it's a simple warning, 'cuz I'm gonna let this one go. I left Sil sitting in a grave, the one he meant for me. He's okay, less'n he got a heart attack or got run over on his way back to a town – I swear I'm gettin' softhearted cuz I fucking well should've shot and buried the asshole – that would have sent you a clear fucking message, right? But I didn't have enough time to fill in the grave, today. Next time, yeah, next time I play for keeps, got it? I'm pretty good at makin' people nervous, but the guy I work for is much worse – back in the day he was called 'Ripper', that was what his enemies called him because of what he kept doin' to 'em. So you'll back away from me and mine, or lose it all, _capic_ _s_ _e_?"

Tony glared at her.

Faith said, "You're havin' trouble believin' me, so try this: do you have any contacts with, ah, like-minded folks, you know, organized like you, in England?" At Tony's not entirely blank look, Faith continued, "If not in England, then in Italy. Anyway, ask them 'bout the Watcher's Council. And do it before you do anything I might take amiss – we don't need to spoil our relationship any more'n it is. Here's the thing Tony, you and me don't compete, not now, not ever, or at least we shouldn't ever. But if we ever do get crossways – **you – will – lose**." She turned and went upstairs.

"Hey Mrs. S," said Faith, "you got any more of that zabaglione? That stuffs freakin' fantastic."

Tony followed, a vein on the side of his head pulsing a little, his jaw grinding. In his imagination he threw Faith through the window, he jumped after her and... Back in reality he saw Faith grinning at him, as if she knew what he was thinking. It wasn't easy but he hid his emotions.

* * *

At the next session with Dr. Melfi, Faith continued, "So after a few years there was a terrible time where I got threatened and my guardian got murdered in front of me..." Faith paused because of Dr. Melfi's reaction, "...and I ran. I fucking ran like a scared little girl."

Dr. Melfi said, "But you _were_ a scared little girl, Faith, your reaction was completely reasonable."

"Not really, by then I was serious about the study of martial arts. I was really mad that I couldn't take this ugly shithead down. I know I had to run to survive, but I didn't feel good about it. I ended up Sunnydale, California." Faith looked up to see if the doc had any questions. But she just stared at Faith, waiting for her to continue.

"And we're at the part I can't talk about, at least for now."

"So skip ahead."

"Okay. Well, let's see, a coupla years later I went to prison. That wasn't much fun, but then I don't suppose it's meant to be. Anyway, the first month I was there people kept trying to fight me. If I was in view of the guards, I let 'em hit me. If there weren't any guards around, I smacked 'em down, hard. It didn't take long before they figured out it might be healthier to leave me alone. After that, there wasn't much to do – I mean after finishing my shift in the laundry – so I took up reading – kinda strange thing for me to do, but there wasn't fuck-all else to do, was there?"

"What did you read?"

"Oh, pretty much everything. Science fiction – both classic and modern – cheap novels, good novels; I got a new appreciation for John Steinbeck – ya know he used ta live out on Long Island not far from my house – I tried some literature and Shakespeare and shit like that, but it didn't strike a chord with me. There were some caveman books I got kick out of. And a broody friend of mine kept trying to get me to read Proust and Kirk-a-something, but I couldn't get past the first page of that shit."

"Yeah, Proust and Kierkegaard are tough reads and neither one are necessarily aligned with modern American life. So tell me about your 'broody' friend."

"Who, Angel? I tried to get him to kill me, but he wouldn't do it."

Melfi was visibly taken aback. "Err, what happened?"

"I had killed a couple of people in Sunnydale, one by accident and one in cold blood. I didn't think it mattered at the time, I thought I didn't care. But it did matter. It was like a lump, or maybe it was like something burning, inside me, and I didn't notice it at first but it slowly got bigger and hotter and one day I finally noticed that I felt fucking awful about it. Look, I don't have a problem with killing people in self-defense, but stabbing a perfectly innocent guy just 'cuz my boss was afraid he might, possibly, cause trouble someday, that got to me. It took some time, I admit, but eventually it got to me." Faith stopped for a minute, stared at her shoes.

"So anyways, I'd had enough of life, I figured I didn't deserve it anymore. I figured if I died, someone better would take my place. So I tortured a guy – a former acquaintance – just to make Angel mad, hoping he'd kill me. But somehow he talked me down. The son-of-a-bitch could sell snowflakes in Sweden, I don't know how the hell he did it, but he convinced me to turn myself in; maybe I did it so I wouldn't hafta listen to Angel mouthing off anymore."

"And do you still feel undeserving of life?"

"No, maybe, kinda, not really. Look, I do good stuff these days. I train people, hell, I've trained cops back in Ohio. And things are looking up for me, I've got all this money and property and I don't even know what to do with it all there's so much of it. I've even got a boyfriend now. Someone I don't deserve, truth to tell. I gotta fancy law firm on retainer just to take care of all the legal shit I have to put up with. I've got a fucking secretary. I can't fucking believe I need a secretary, but I've got one. And she's so fucking useful, she takes care of everything for me. Of course, I wanted to kill my aunt, and it turned out my twin sister that I didn't even know I had _did_ kill her. What a fucked up time that turned into."

"You have a twin?"

"Yeah, and I didn't know it until recently. See, I have two sisters, Hope and Charity. Until last year I thought they were both dead, but it turned out that they were alive; but when Hope found me, she made it her life's work to fuck with me – and she convinced Charity to help her fuck with me. Hell, I didn't even know she was my twin! I thought she was two years younger than me and had died of SIDS back when I was two, but it turned out mom had given her away – that's not accurate, she let her be adopted and finagled a way to get paid for it. But, somehow, it really fucked her up, my twin I mean, and Hope blamed me for her insanity. Well, she's getting help now, in prison. At least, I hope she is; prisons being as fucked up as they are, she might be getting worse."

* * *

Faith and Meadow drove to New Jersey on Faith's tricked out custom Electra-Glide. At a stop light, Faith glanced over her shoulder and asked, "Hey you alright back there?"

"Yeah! I've never been on a motorcycle before. It's a lot more comfortable than I thought it would be."

"Yeah, well, this bike is a lot bigger than most and the back seat is roomier and safer than most."

"It's scary enough for me, but it's all good."

The light turned green and they continued. Faith didn't try to hot-dog it, but even her toned down driving was exciting for Meadow. She felt the vibrations of the engine deep within her, and suddenly realized why girls so often fell for guys with big bikes.

Faith followed her navigator to a diner and parked across the street. "This the place? It don't look as nice as Vesuvio's."

"It isn't, but the foods pretty good. I don't know why dad wanted to eat here tonight, though." Meadow swung her leg over, stretch for a moment, then headed across the street while Faith locked her pride and joy.

She followed Meadow into the diner and spotted the Soprano family sitting at a both halfway towards the back. She noticed a guy standing behind Tony. There was something about him that set off a bad vibe. Faith watched carefully, and saw him pull a gun from his waist. She grabbed a knife off a nearby table and yelled, "DOWN!" and threw the knife at the shooter, thirty feet away, but he still got off one shot.

Everyone in the restaurant started screaming, Tony slumped down onto his plate of manicotti with extra sausage, his blood running onto the table. Meadow screamed, "DADDY!" and leaned over to hold a cloth napkin against his wound and trying to keep him from drowning in Sunday gravy.

The gunman, still hovering behind the booth, with Faith's knife sticking out of his shoulder, was still trying hard to aim his gun at the back of Tony's head. Carmela grabbed another knife and tried to stab the gunman again when Faith leaped over the booth and landed beside the man. She knocked him down, hard, and tied him up with a white tablecloth she whipped off an adjacent table.

Carmela came around and kicked him, screaming, "What the fuck did you do you fucking murderer!" She kicked him again. "WHAT THE FUCK! DO YOU KNOW WHO YOU JUST SHOT!"

A.J. was shocked at the violence and blood, he very nearly passed out, but the sight of his mother yelling and kicking the guy who just shot his dad got him moving. He stood up and went over to her. He said, "Mom, mom! Chill! The cops are on the way! I think dad's still alive, the ambulance is coming!"

Carmela looked at A.J., still shaking with rage, but she stopped kicking. She looked at Faith, who was casually lounging against the next booth with a butter-knife in her hand, watching everybody in the restaurant, making sure there weren't any confederates of the gunman lurking around.

Carmela finally calmed enough to look a Tony, Meadow still trying to help him.

Faith said, "I think he'll live. Looks like the bullet missed everything important, unless it tumbled or something." The conscious Sopranos all looked at her in horror.

"Um, sorry, I was trying to reassure – I think he's gonna make it."

Meadow said, "Hey give me a hand, let's stretch him out on the floor."

The restaurant owner had come out of the kitchen, wringing his hands in worry, but calm enough to have brought his first-aid kit. They got Tony out of the bloody booth and stretched him out on clean tablecloths and towels on the floor. Meadow grabbed the first-aid kit and started pouring antibacterial solution on the wound.

The cops were the first to arrive, then the ambulance. Officialdom took over and the hours were taken up by interviews with cops. Until Carmela finally had enough and yelled at the detective questioning her, "ENOUGH! We're going to the hospital, Tony needs us there when he gets out of surgery." The detective wasn't foolish enough to argue with her, and the family trooped out. Paulie Walnuts and Silvio had arrived – Silvio eyeing Faith cautiously – and they drove Carmela and the kids while Faith followed on her Harley.

* * *

Agent Grasso timed his entrance carefully, after the rest of the family left. He walked into Tony's room and said, "Good evening Mr. Soprano, how ya feelin'?"

"Ah fuck, the fuckin' feds ridin' to the rescue. Only yer a little late, aintcha? I mean, the cavalry would have been welcome a few hours ago. You guys fuck up, or what? Or were you cheering on the murderer?"

"Tony, Tony, you know we're too busy hunting terrorists – both real and imaginary – to be able to watch you as close as we used to. But, even with reduced funding we're still out there."

"Yeah, yeah..."

"So Tone, you got any idea who wants ya whacked these days?"

"Oh fuck off, Grasso."

"Heh, I take you're in the dark?"

"What about you? You got any more tapes for me?"

"No, not this time. Your vaunted FBI was caught completely off guard. Still, we'll be more watchful in the future, you have my word on that."

"And yer word's good, ain't it? You'd never lie to me, not inna million years, right?"

"Well, not on this, anyway."

"So don't you go talkin' to my wife about witness protection, you fuck."

"Not this time, I don't want to see you in WitSec. To tell you the truth, Tony, it wouldn't bother me much to be investigating your murder. Although I would try to stop it from happening in front of me."

"Hey, I love you too but doesn't that go against your code of good conduct?"

"Sometimes the code goes a little too far. Anyway, I don't want to do anything except find enough evidence to arrest you, but I know damn well you off your friends when we got them to turn against you. For that, there's no forgiving, not in me anyways."

"Oh bullshit, I never killed nobody in my life, I'm a regular pussy," said Tony.

"Funny you should mention Pussy."

"Hey, he up an' disappeared, I figure you put him in WitSec, you fucks."

"If we had, you'd be sitting in a cell about now."

"Hmmph. Say, you ever heard of the Watcher's Council?"

Agent Grasso visibly started, but quickly got his self-control back. "Ah, what brought that up?"

"Nothing in particular, just you mentioned watching me."

"Umm, well, the Watcher's Council doesn't move in the same circles as the FBI. I'd watch out for them, if I was you. What they do … you don't want to know and you really don't want to fuck with those people."

"Yeah? Look, do me a favor, Grasso – get the fuck outta here."

"Bye Tony, hope you get better soon." His insincerity was palpable.

* * *

Tony was released from the hospital three days later, much to the relief of the hospital staff who had tired of the operatic antics of the Soprano family and their retainers. The bullet had only grazed Tony's collarbone close to his neck, and mostly damaged only flesh and muscle. He was still looking at a couple of months of recovery, but it could have been much worse.

Carmela, Meadow and A.J. all thought Faith was a saint, and had her over for dinner as often as they could. Silvio was careful not to crowd her.

Tony was not very trusting of Faith, even though his family reassured him that he would be dead if it weren't for her. What he had learned of the Watcher's Council from his Italian contacts had left him even more worried. He had been warned in no uncertain terms by his Italian cousin that he had better not fuck with the IWC or their people, no matter the provocation. He didn't like it, but he went along, it being clear that there wasn't anyone who would have his back if he went against the warning.

* * *

Tony stared in awe at the Pearly Gates. The sight was indescribably beautiful – words failed him. After an eon of staring, he heard a cough. He looked down across a shiny white desk at a white bearded old man. "Are, are you Saint Peter?"

"Fuck yeah, Tony!"

Tony blinked. Saint Peter had morphed into...

" _Marone_!"

"Is that anyway to greet the man behind the desk, Tony?"

"Pussy? Is that you? Big Pussy! Big Pussy Bompensiero! My friend! You've really come up in the afterworld!"

"You think _I'm_ your _friend_? You fucking killed me! After all we went through together, you – fucking – _murdered_ – ME! YOUR SO-CALLED FUCKING FRIEND!"

"Ahhhh, you're not still mad about that, are you, Pussy? I mean, if the situation had been reversed, you woulda done the same ta me right? After all, you _were_ talkin' to the Feds."

"But I dint tell 'em a fuckin' thing! You coulda used me to be a line inta the FBI! But nooo, all you could see was..."

"You talked to the fuckin' Feds, Pussy, that's what I saw, you fuckin' _talked_ to the _disgraziat_ _s_ ** _'_** at the FBI!"

"Tone, the fuckers had me over a barrel, I had no choice, I hadda tell 'em somethin' or go straight to prison for the rest of my life. But _you_ didn't go to prison, so you _know_ I couldn't have said much. And you fuckin' _murdered_ me. So thanks a lot."

"Yeah, well, you know, I hadda."

"So I guess you know where you're goin', huh? I mean, you ain't nevva gonna see what's behind these gates, you sick fuck!"

"Isn't that kinda language against the rules up here?"

" _Fungule_ Tony! To the Seventh Circle of Hell with ya!" proclaimed Pussy as he stood up to his full height and pointed dramatically down with the middle finger of his right hand.

The ground opened up beneath Tony's feet, a huge red hole that went down and down and down and Tony fell and fell and fell and...

 **Ka-wham** **!**

"Ahhhh! The fuck was that!?" groaned Tony from the floor beside his bed.

On the other side of the bed, Carmela, wiping the sleep from her eyes and rolling over and leaning on her elbows so she could look over the side down at Tony, said urgently, "TONY! Tony! Are you all right? What are you doing on the floor? Didja fall outta bed? Did you hurt your wound? You still havin' those nightmares?"

Tony, struggling to his feet, "Go back ta sleep Carm, I'm alright, I jus' rolled over too far. Nothin' to worry 'bout. Maybe too much _salsiccia_ at dinner, just a little _agita_." He sat down heavily on the bed, which groaned under his weight as he tucked himself in and tried to get back to sleep.

 **The End**

 _I have a sequel in mind, if anyone's interested._


End file.
